Everdeen Women Making Love
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: I wrote this quick story about Katniss and Mrs. Everdeen, mother and daughter, having little romances around the Hunger Games. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: For Luck

**Chapter 1: For Luck**

I turn the little pin over in my hand. I have seen all manner of trinkets bartered in the Hob, but none so unique as this. "What is it?"

The vendor peers over her stall and smiles a crinkled smile. "That's a... mockingjay."

"How much?" I ask, knowing well how far a coin or two can go. I have some on hand, having completed my trades for game.

"You keep it; it's yours."

"Thank you," I reply. I turn and crash right up against the white armored plates of a Peacekeeper's uniform. I jump, startled and concerned over what rule I may have broken, but then I see the flash of red hair. "Darius. Hi," I greet.

Darius Freeman is a 20-year-old Peacekeeper private here in District 12. He is known to be one of the nicer cadets on the force here, and a bit of a flirt. "What have you got there, Miss Everdeen?" He flicks my braid and gives me a dazzling smile.

I hold out my palm and show him the pin. He nods in approval. "Pretty little thing." I can't tell if he is referring to the pin or me, and a blush comes to my cheeks. Laughing, I attach the pin to Darius's lapel.

"See you at the Reaping?" I ask him.

"Wear something pretty," he winks.

* * *

The Reaping is considered a holiday in District 12. It is an excuse for us poor people who live in the Seam to dress up in the nicest articles of clothing we own and parade ourselves into the Square, like pigs waiting to be slaughtered. For me, I have my faded blue dress - a relic of my mother's from her days as a Merchant.

I loathe everything about the day.

The last several years of the Hunger Games have been demoralizing for our district. Not that we ever do particularly well in the annual fight to the death, because we don't. Three years ago, my hunting partner and best friend, Gale Hawthorne, was Reaped. The next year, a buddy of his, Thom Borden, was Reaped. And this past Games - the 75th Anniversary, also known as the Third Quarter Quell - had children against parents go into the arena. Peeta Mellark, the Merchant Baker's youngest son, and his sadistic mother were sent in. All were killed. The deaths of people I knew shouldn't rattle me, but they do. Even though in 75 years, our district has had exactly two Victors - both of whom are still alive. Cassiope Fletch, Victor of the 16th Hunger Games, is an old lady. Haymitch Abernathy, Victor of the 50th Hunger Games (a Quarter Quell), is a middle-aged alcoholic.

And on this, my last Reaping at 18 years old, the odds are not in my favor, as I am Reaped for the 76th Hunger Games.

My farewells with my mother and sisters are tearful and brief. I tell Mother to look after Prim and not abandon like when after Dad died. When their allowed five minutes are up, I wait for the guards to come collect me for the train. So, when the door opens to reveal Darius in civilian clothing, I draw back in surprise.

"I thought you would be on duty," I express.

"No, not today. I came to say goodbye to you." I watch him take the mockingjay pin out of his pocket, and he fastens it to my blue dress, directly over my heart. "Every tribute is allowed to wear one token into the arena. Will you wear this for me? You need it more than I do."

My Seam gray eyes lock onto his deep, impossibly blue ones... eyes as blue as a summer sky... and I nod. Both of us have frozen, Darius's calloused palm still hovering over my breast. And then... he dares to squeeze it, laying his fingers tentatively over my nipple, tweaking it. I don't pull away; encouraged, Darius bends and covers my lips with his, kissing me full on the mouth.

I gasp a little into the kiss, my lips parting for his and allowing his tongue to enter effortlessly. Darius's other hand comes to rest lightly on my hip, and he pulls me away from the wall, so that he can fully encircle my slim waist as he cradles me flush against him. I am not sure what to do, so while I don't return the kiss, I do not twist away either, letting Darius deepen it. We have been dancing around... charged feelings for each other these past many months, unsure which of us should take the first move into something more. I have been especially hesitant, I have always been ambivalent about things like love and marriage.

Darius's palms now grope lower. His fingers caress my bum through my dress, cupping the flesh of one cheek, and then the other. In one fluid motion, Darius raises my thigh to his waist, and I hook it around his torso, so that the hem of my blue dress rides high up my calves. Snapping a wrist forward, I find Darius's belt buckle and nimbly work it free, throwing down my partner's trousers while Darius presses me back into the wall. I feel my panties slide over my hips.

Moments later, I feel a slimy, engorged thing enter my holy regions, and Darius and I begin to undulate our pelvises against each other insistently. Between kissing, we quietly moan and cry out into each other's shoulders. I buck into Darius more and more furiously as warmth builds into my core, and Darius obliges my primal need by thrusting into me faster and faster. He plants kisses along my face and jaw and into my neck until with a grunt, he ejaculates into me. Another smack of bare, sweaty skin, then another, and with a whimper, I follow in my own orgasm.

Coming down from my high, Darius and I uncouple and hurriedly redress. Darius captures my lips with his one last time and I don't object, holding the kiss. We break apart tenderly.

"You have to win, Katniss," Darius tells me. Then he departs from the holding room when his Peacekeeper comrades come to escort him out and lead me to the train.

The time it takes me to have my first kiss and lose my virginity takes less than five minutes.


	2. Chapter 2: Old Flame

**Chapter 2: Old Flame**

 **Lillian Everdeen's POV**

Primrose and I walk home from saying goodbye to Katniss. Accompanying us is Steffan Mellark, the Baker. He knows all too well the pain we are feeling, as he lost both his wife and his youngest son in a merciless Quell twist last year. When we arrive at our little shack in the Seam, Steffan pauses on our front stoop.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay the night with you, Lillian?"

I smile at him, touched by his sweetness. I feel a heat come to my cheeks. "We'll manage, Steffan." The two of us regard each other awkwardly, and I ignore how my youngest girl is looking curiously between us.

Steffan tips his hat. "Well... goodnight."

* * *

It is deep night, that same evening after the Reaping. Primrose has been in bed asleep for a few hours. As I prepare to blow out the candle in the kitchen and retire myself, I hear a knock at the front door. Curious, I pull my wrap around myself and go to answer it. Steffan Mellark is standing on the porch, shaking slightly from what can only be nerves.

"Hi," he says nervously.

I gulp as I gaze into his eyes, someone knowing inherently why he has come. What very well may happen if I let him in this house.

"Hi. Come in," I entreat. I lead him into the kitchen. By the stove, Steffan takes my hand.

"I just couldn't stay away, Lillian. I know you need someone. Believe me, I've needed someone over the past year. And... I love... you -" He can barely finish before he has slung an arm about my waist, pulls me close and kisses me full on the lips. Closing my eyes, I feel my fingers fist the fabric of his tunic, then wound completely about his shoulders, as I return the kiss of my childhood sweetheart.

Steffan's hands quickly wander below my frock, and I sense his digits cupping the accentuated flesh of my ass. No one has touched me like this since my late husband, and aroused, I hike my one leg around his waist, my hand snapping out to audaciously cup the Baker between his legs.

There is a sudden CREAK and Steffan and I spring apart, gasping. My breasts heave under the bodice of my old Merchant.

"Primrose Everdeen?" I call without tearing my eyes away from my paramour.

A sharp intake of breath. "Ma'am?"

"Go to bed, young lady." My girl knows enough to obey.

As soon as Prim is gone, Steffan and I stumble back into my master bedroom, furiously kissing and getting each other in various stages of undress. Steffan throws me back onto my mattress. Clasping our arms about each other, we roll around in each other's embrace, moaning and purring and kissing with open mouths and dueling tongues. "Mmmm... Hmmmm..."

Steffan soon straddles me, and I spread my legs wide, squeezing them around his middle as I guide him towards my center. Steffan slams into me without mercy. We rock and hump against each other, groaning as the bed creaks sharply beneath us. We are rutting like two teenagers, my pre-teen daughter sleeping just in the next room.

"Huuhhhh... Guhhh... Muhhhh! Uhhhh! Mmmm... Hmmm..." After several minutes of lovemaking, Steffan stiffens and wilts against me, as he empties himself inside me; with a plaintive cry, I quickly follow. Sweaty and naked, we curl close together and fall into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3: Happily Ever After

**Chapter 3: Happily Ever After**

 **Katniss's POV**

It is with great determination that I win the 76th Hunger Games, becoming the third Victor from my homeland. When the train pulls into the District 12 station, I am mobbed by the media and neighbors lining the rooftops to catch a glimpse of me. Leaving my mentors, Cassiope and Haymitch, to field greeters, I go up the street to the Seam, where I know my loved ones will be waiting so I can be reunited with them in private. I had written ahead from the Capitol requesting this myself.

Darius runs out from the house to greet me. "Katniss!"

Reaching him in two strides, I fling an arm about his neck and yank his face to mine in a heated kiss, initiating the first liplock between us. Darius eagerly returns the kiss, and when we break apart, our arms still around each other, Primrose, Mother and the Baker (I wonder why he's here?) are staring at us.

"Katniss, I love you," Darius breathes. "Will you marry me?"

I play with his long red locks as I consider his proposal. Very few Victors have ever married. Cassiope and Haymitch certainly haven't. But the arena taught me that I have fallen in love with Darius. And so kissing him softly, I whisper, "Yes."

Unnoticed by me, the Baker pulls Mother close to share a long kiss of their own.

* * *

 **Six Months Later**

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes..."

"Oh _noooooo_..."

"Oh ye _sssss_..."

"Mmmmm... Hmmmm... Huhh... Dar..."

I sit astride my husband's lap and the chair beneath as our lips snap together in furious kissing. Darius and I married in a quiet ceremony in my new Victor mansion living room.

Mother bustles in right then, Prim right behind her. "Katniss, control yourself. Your prep team will be here soon. So please... self-control."

"Says the woman who let her husband take her over the kitchen table."

My kissed mouth drops open over my baby sister's sharp tongue. Mother gasps. "Primrose Daisy Everdeen! I'll thank you to not discuss my... sexual life so flippantly!"

The Baker chuckles as her emerges from their bedroom and kisses Mother soundly. "I'd let it go, Lillian."

Mother married Steffan Mellark in the same wedding ceremony as me and Darius. I was surprised by the match, considering the Baker is Merchant, but he has always been a kind man.

My prep team arrives. Cassiope and Haymitch are being readied a few doors down for my Victory Tour. We are leaving today and Darius, my husband, will be going with me on Peacekeeper duty.

Steffan, Mother and Primrose come to see us Victors and Darius off at the train station. Darius and I climb aboard, taking seats in the sleek caboose. And as Darius and I embrace and kiss, the whistle blows while the train steams off into the countryside.


End file.
